Laments: Etta James

The great Etta James passed away this week. James was possibly one of the most powerful female vocalists to walk to the Earth, and it's all kinds of sad that she won't be around anymore. What I found striking about her passing though, was that it was a bigger deal than I thought it would be, and rightly so. She was much more than the singer behind "At Last," after all.  In high school, Etta James was like a secret I knew about, a secret so cool and yet so undiscovered by people my age. They didn't even know what their iPods were missing.

Glad to know that I would eventually be very wrong in my assumption.

Here's one of my favorite Etta James songs, "I'd Rather Go Blind," a perfect example of the strength and vulnerability that she could communication in her singing.

Storify: Amy Winehouse, Dead at 27

Paste Magazine - A Lament

Yesterday was not a happy day. I was in the newspaper office when when I saw three words come through on my Google Reader. Paste is Dead.

Editor Josh Jackson posted this bare bones announcement on the website. After struggling to keep their heads above water, the debt was just too much, even after the incredible "Save Paste" campaign last year. The economy has been too bad for too long.

As a loyal subscriber for the last five years, losing Paste feels like losing a good friend. It's hard to explain getting so attached to a magazine, but as a journalism major raised around the magazine industry with hopes of someday writing for a music magazine, this is a tough blow. But forget me. From a new media perspective, you couldn't find fault with a thing Paste has done, from producing multimedia content and diversifying revenue streams, to carving out a place in social media. They did everything that's supposed to save us. A year ago, I shuddered to think of Paste folding because I felt that if they couldn't survive there wasn't any hope left for magazines.

Paste was the reason I started this blog.

They will be greatly missed. Every issue was so intelligent, outstanding on every level-- the writing, the page design-- even from a tactile standpoint, the matte cover was perfect for the magazine's aesthetic. Of course, there were all the bands that I heard about first from the pages of Paste, or from their expertly curated sampler CDs.

In the end, I don't have enough words to fully articulate was a loss this is for music journalism, how sad I am, how much I will miss receiving the issue, or how sick I feel for all the folks who no longer have jobs. No one is guaranteed fairness, that doesn't make it sting any less.

NAMM Museum of Making Music

I've been in the process of moving and jet-setting to the Golden State (bourgeois, no?) for about a week now, so I haven't had a chance to post anything. For now, I thought I'd share this little bit that happened while I was at the NAMM Museum of Making Music in Carlsbad, Ca.

There were these two little kids-- siblings, maybe 7 and 9 years old-- who apparently frequent this museum with their mother on a regular basis. In the section devoted to the 60s, the little boy was pushing the buttons that pull up clips of artists on the television monitor when he pushed one in particular and exclaimed happily, "Eric Clapton!"

If a kid that young knows who the heck Eric Clapton is, and trust me, I could tell he knew exactly who Eric Clapton is, maybe we can breathe a little easier.

Anywho, the museum was pretty cool, tracing the way people make music starting in the late 1800s. Tons of old instruments-- a few I'd never seen before, even. The folks working there were really nice and really talkative. If you're ever in the area, definitely check it out. They were in the process of installing an exhibit on the Moog synthesizer. Wish I'd seen that, but the exhibit they had on going electric was pretty sweet.


On a related note, Les Paul died Thursday while I was away. Really sad stuff. Dude was 94.

The Day the Music Died

Perhaps a tad dramatic, but that's how the song goes. It is a little hard to believe it's been 50 years since Buddy Holly's plane crashed. I won't even try to explain why the guy was a giant. I think the fact that anyone remembers the day he died so long after makes the point just fine.


I remember sitting in the shopping cart in the super market when I was barely four singing this song. It's "Maybe Baby." Take a listen.

Don't forget Richie Valens and the Big Bopper, either.

Peace, kids.

Imagine

I was just weeding through my RSS feeds when I saw on Rolling Stone that today is the 28th anniversary of John Lennon's death. Obviously, this is a yearly occurrence, but for some reason this time around I couldn't help but think that 28 years is really a long time.

Part of my reaction to this though, stems from a documentary I watched a few weeks ago about the 60s. In one section it talked about Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Keith Moon with regards to how young they died. Granted all their deaths were drug-related unlike Lennon and I don't think I'd put him in a talent level on his own with Hendrix, but still I was wondering what would have happened if these folks had even made it to 40. Think about it. Talent-wise, they were so far ahead to begin with, imagine 30, 40 years of tours and albums. Especially with Hendrix, it hardly seems as though he could have gotten any better. What's deeper than basically being one with the guitar? I'm sure we'll never know.

Peace, kids.